


Rebellion of the Righteous Man

by SaenaLife



Series: Righteous Man [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Demon Sex, Dom/sub, F/M, Oral Sex, POV First Person, Penis In Vagina Sex, backstabbing, mindgames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-28 11:42:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8444503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaenaLife/pseuds/SaenaLife
Summary: Everyone thinks they know what's about to happen. They're all wrong.





	

*********

Dean glanced around the panic room, checking his preparations. The acid in his stomach was telling him that this whole thing was probably a bad, _bad_ idea, but he couldn't see any other way out. Lasa had her hooks in him and it didn't look like she was gonna let go any time soon. He fucking hated working with Crowley, but it seemed like the only way to put an end to this without Sam and Bobby finding out about his dangerous liaisons.

Staring down at the freshly repainted Devil's Trap that covered the floor, his mind drifted back to the plan he and Crowley had hammered out yesterday morning (was it really only yesterday?).

\---------

“ _Alright, so how we gonna do this?" Rolling his shoulders to try to work out the tension and distaste for his current company, Dean dropped into a chair. "Bobby and Sam'll be back from Nevada by the end of the week, so we don't have much time.”_

“ _Right to it then._ _First, you need to be the one to contact her this time. Invite her to come here tomorrow, to the panic room.”_

_Dean was confused. “Here? Why would she come here?”_

“ _Because,” Crowley enunciated with exaggerated patience, “Lasa badly wants to sub for you, I can see it. And the fact that it'll be in a room that no demon can break out of will make it doubly enticing for her.”_

“ _And again, why would she do that? Let herself get trapped? She can't possibly trust me that much.”_

“ _True. She barely trusts me that much. But trust me she does, and she'll do so even more when I tell her you came to me with a plan to trap and kill her.”_

“ _Wait, what?! You're gonna warn her?” Dean was incredulous and worlds past irritated. “Genius plan, dude. Why not just hand her a knife and bare our throats for her?”_

“ _When will you realize that I didn't become the King of Hell by accident?” With a long-suffering shake of his head, Crowley continued. “Yes, I'll tell her all about it. I'm also going to tell her that I'm double-crossing you and I'll be nearby to break her out after your little tryst. That hint of danger while she indulges herself, followed by the chance to pull the rug out from under you by escaping the trap? It's all of her favorite things; she won't be able to resist.”_

_Dean considered what he knew of the powerful demon. With the clarity afforded by her absence, he could see the many ways Lasa had manipulated both him and Crowley to keep them off balance. Reluctantly, he frowned across Bobby's kitchen table at his co-conspirator. “Alright, it's a halfway decent plan. And we said exorcise, not kill.”_

“ _You say po-tay-to, I say po-tah-to.” With an impatient shrug, Crowley dismissed the distinction. “What matters is that we'll have her right where we want her.”_

\---------

Sighing, Dean double-checked the thick line of salt he'd poured around the perimeter of the room, doing everything he could think of to reinforce Bobby's protections. Glancing up at the vent in the ceiling, he could just see the layer of salt he'd laid over the top of the iron Devil's Trap there. Finally, he turned to look at the cot in the center of the room and felt the constant uneasiness in his gut spike up sharply.

\---------

“ _Okay, once she goes into the panic room, I'll start the exorcism...”_

“ _No.”_

“ _What?”_

_"Are you deaf? I said no, you can't start it that early.”_

“ _Why the fuck not? Let's just wrap it up quick and be done!”_

“ _No, no good. We can't underestimate Lasa and I can't guarantee that even your panic room will hold her for long. Catching her off guard won't be easy; we need to make use of every advantage. Better to wait until after your little scene, when she's relaxed and lulled into a sense of security.”_

“ _So you're saying I have to go through with the domming?”_

“ _Yes, that is what I'm saying.”_

“ _Shit.”_

“ _Oh, and word of advice? When you call, don't be submissive. In fact, be just a touch arrogant, let her see what kind of dom you'll be. Catnip, trust me.”_

\---------

Even now, as he was waiting for Crowley to pick up, Dean couldn't decide how he felt about the insistence on a post-coital exorcism. He'd planned to avoid any physical contact with Lasa, because that was what he thought he should do, what any sane and ethical man would do. Yet he couldn't deny that the idea of having his way with her, just once, thrilled him in a way that he knew wasn't even in the same zip code as healthy.

“What?” Crowley's greeting brimmed with surliness.

“It's Dean.”

“I know who it is, you simpleton. What do you want?”

Gritting his teeth, Dean spat out, “Lemme talk to Lasa.”

“I'm sorry, have you mistaken me for a fucking secretary? Sod off.” The line went dead.

He stared at the phone, mentally adding this to the list of reasons to kill Crowley, before dialing back in silent fury.

“What?!”

“Quit fucking around. You wanna do this or not?”

“Listen, Squirrel, she calls you, you don't ca...” He was interrupted by a low murmur that sent a frisson of warmth down Dean's spine. Crowley returned. “Well, well. It seems you're in favor. Please hold, Mr. Winchester, and I'll connect you with Lasa right away. Thank you for calling Fuckoff, Eatme, and Die. Have a nice day.”

In the following silence, Dean braced himself for her voice, for all the good it did him.

“My pet.”

For the briefest moment, Dean wanted to chuck it all and give himself over to her, just so that he could hear Lasa claim him as hers for the rest of eternity. As quickly as the emotion formed though, it began to fade. Didn't matter how much pleasure she would surely give him, or that being with her had fulfilled a part of him that he hadn't even known was lacking. In the end, the price was too damned high.

Remembering Crowley's advice and hoping it hadn't been a setup meant to get him killed, Dean forced a low, amused tone when he answered.

“Oh sweetheart, we ain't in the bedroom now. You can call me Dean. Maybe later on you can call me sir.”

There was a heartbeat of quiet that gave Dean plenty of time to imagine Lasa warping into Bobby's basement to burn him alive the way she had that demon.

“Dean, then.” Dry amusement dominated her tone, but he detected the slightest bit of softness under it that was entirely new. Hearing it from Lasa sent a jolt through him and his cock started to harden. Maybe this wouldn't be _so_ bad. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Funny you should mention pleasure, sweetheart, 'cause that's why I'm calling. I was thinkin' you might be in the mood to switch things up like we talked about the other day.” Dean let an edge of darkness slip into his voice as he continued. “I've got a dungeon all set up over here, just _begging_ for a pretty little sub like you to make it complete. Whaddya say, kitten?”

“Hm... I say you're awfully confident for a man who was pleading for me to touch him less than 48 hours ago.” The hint of breathlessness was more pronounced this time. In spite of her dismissive words, Dean sensed his advantage and pressed on.

“Today I'm the man that's gonna make it all go away for you, take away everything but your obedience to me and the pleasure I give you in return.” He could hear Lasa's breathing quicken and knew he was on the right track. Time for a quick jab to her pride. “C'mon, kitten, there's nothin' to be scared of. I'm just a harmless meatsack, right?”

“Me? Afraid of you?” She chuckled a little. “That's adorable, Dean. No, I was simply trying to decide if it would be worth my time.”

It was Dean's turn to laugh. “It'll be worth your time, no doubt about that. And you can pretend all you want, but we both know you're itchin' to do this just as much as I am.” His words pitched lower, intimate and wanting. “All I can think about is havin' you surrender to me, letting me give you everything you need, take everything I want.”

The truth of that echoed in the heat of his voice and Dean reached down to palm his hard-on, shifting in his seat at the realization that this seduction was a two way street. It was working, though; he just barely caught the sound of a soft gasp leaving her lips at his words and he went on before she could answer.

“Would you like to come and see me, kitten?”

Dean couldn't have predicted the impact of her response, soft-voiced but clear as a bell.

“Yes... sir.”

Every bit of him that wasn't already on high alert stretched and tightened as he tried to stay on top of the lust that threatened to overwhelm his language centers, leaving him grunting his desires like a cro-magnon. Somehow the years of thinking on his feet kicked in and Dean found himself automatically speaking in a smooth, commanding voice.

“That's my good girl! Be here in 15 minutes. Crowley knows where it is.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I'll be waiting.” Dean hung up without waiting for an answer. Flopping back onto the cot, he stared at the vent above him, feeling like he'd just run a marathon. On a tightrope. Over a pit of alligators. This wasn't gonna be easy.

*********

Lasa

I held the quiet phone to my ear for an extra second or two, resisting the urge to analyze my reaction to the conversation with Dean. It shouldn't have been affecting me this much and I couldn't let Crowley see that I was off-balance. Shoving it all to the side for the moment, I lowered the phone and turned to look at my demon lover, fixing an amused smile on my face.

“How was that?”

“Quite the convincing performance; a perfect mix of 'no fucks given' and 'harder, Daddy'.” Crowley took my hand, raising it to his lips. “Truly, my dear, it's a joy watching you work.” He began to press nipping kisses to my fingertips, eyes fixed on mine through his lashes. Only a handful of men in history have been able to carry off that gesture with as much flair and dark sexuality as the King of Hell, and the tendrils of heat that had been sparked by Dean's voice flared, spiraling out from my center.

With an effort, I ignored the tightening of my nipples and rush of heat between my legs. _Soon enough._ I drew my hand away, sliding it behind his neck, drawing him to me for a passionate kiss before pulling away.

“Now,” I said briskly, “back to business. We have an appointment to keep and I want to prepare myself a bit. Meet me back here in ten minutes and we can leave for the junkyard.”

Crowley's face darkened with anger at the obvious dismissal, but he stood to go. Pausing at the door, he turned and caught my eye. “I've been incredibly patient and helpful with your little project, Lasa, but remember, I'm _not_ your lackey. Wrap this thing up soon before I decide to just kill Dean Winchester and have done with it.”

With narrowed eyes, I watched him go, assessing how much further I'd be able to push him before he made good on his threat. Quickly weighing the factors, I calculated that his patience would last just long enough for me to draw Dean into the final trap. Probably. I hoped so, for Dean's sake.

With a smile, I turned to my closet and began to dress. It wouldn't do to be late.

When Crowley returned, ten minutes later down to the second, I carefully monitored his reaction to my appearance and was gratified to see his jaw drop. Smoothing the plain white linen over my hips, I stepped toward him, feeling the soft end of my high ponytail tickle across my bare shoulders as I walked. Gliding to a stop in front of him, I met his stare with a timid gaze and spoke in a soft voice, just hinting at a tremble.

“Do I please you, Master?”

He groaned, gripping my upper arms and surveying me from head to toe. “You look...” He shook his head, obviously searching for words in a fog of cognitive dissonance. “You look... delicate. And yielding.” While he spoke, Crowley's eyes darkened, pupils blowing wide with lust as he studied me. “I daresay, engagingly pliant.” One hand slid up my arm to reach out and grasp my hair, pulling back hard enough to tilt my jaw up as he pulled me against his body with his other arm. I gripped his lapels with both hands and shivered at the caress of his words on the skin of my neck. “Fuck, Lasa, you look _innocent_!” His erection pressed insistently against my hip. “How is anyone supposed to resist you?” With that, he licked a line up to my ear to bite down on the lobe, sharp and hungry. I jolted against him, pulse jumping into my throat.

He soothed the bite with his lips and tongue, and I let my eyes slip closed, enjoying the attention as I answered. “Hmmm, that's exactly the point.” I tilted my head back a little further, exposing my neck to his kisses, luxuriating in the languid warmth stealing through my veins. “I want Dean so spellbound by his new, perfect sub that he'll never see it coming when I escape his snare.”

Crowley pulled back, looking intently at me. “Are you sure you want to risk this? He seems easily managed, but it wouldn't be wise to underestimate him.”

“Which is why you'll be waiting to break the Devil's Trap and set me free. Once Dean sees that he can't outwit or escape us, he'll understand that his every path leads to me. He'll be ready to join us for eternity,” I raised a shoulder carelessly, “or at least until we tire of him.”

“Tell me again, why would I want that?”

“Darling, please, stop pretending! We both find him attractive and,” I paused with a smile, dipping my head in his direction, “present company excepted of course, he's the most skilled lover I've encountered in centuries.” Crowley raised his brow at me, but didn't comment. I continued, “Not to mention how it'll play to Hell at large. 'Crowley is the one who brought the great Dean Winchester to bay, turned him into a sex toy of all things.' Think of the talk!”

His face turned thoughtful. “True. That would certainly be a feather in my cap.” Nodding slightly, he drew the corners of his mouth down in a thoughtful shrug. “And I suppose, even if he's a demon, I can kill him anytime.” Looking down at me, he chuckled. “It's good to be king.”

Setting aside for the moment the question of whether I would _allow_ him to kill Dean, I glanced at the clock and moved out of Crowley's arms. With quick gestures, I resettled my dress and smoothed a hand over my hair, beginning to fall into character. Turning back, I put one hand on his arm as if for support and smiled sweetly at him. “Time for the curtain to rise on the final act. Shall we?”

*********

Dean leaned against the heavy iron door in Bobby's basement, his outward casualness masking nerves and a cock stretched tight with waiting. He blinked and in that millisecond of darkness, felt something change. Opening his eyes, he was completely unsurprised to see Lasa standing there, her hand on Crowley's arm.

Without moving, other than to let a slow, hot smile build on his face while his eyes traced her form, Dean drawled, “Well now, kitten, don't you look nice?”

Lasa dropped her eyes and took a hesitant step forward, away from Crowley. “Thank you, sir.”

Although he knew the truth of it just about better than anyone - that Lasa existed as plans within plans, facades within facades - Dean couldn't help but feel a twinge of possessiveness at the way her words oh-so-perfectly hinted at a nervous and yet willing submission to his will. In fact, it was the sheer perfection of her response that sounded the false note to his hunter instincts, vividly reminding him exactly who he was dealing with. _She's good,_ he thought to himself, _but I'm better._

Dean pushed some of the tension and pent up energy into his voice, filling out the rounded spaces until his words were hard and flat. “Good enough to eat.” The smallest shiver ran through Lasa at the words and a ferocious satisfaction crept through him with the certainty that it hadn't been entirely for show.

His eyes never leaving hers, Dean half turned with a gallant gesture to the open doorway beside him. “Come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly.”

“Yes, sir.” The words were soft-spoken as Lasa moved forward. Dean stayed where he was, half blocking the opening, staring down at her with an amused smile as she approached; a smile that got wider as she turned sideways, squeezing past him. He was impressed at the blush that bloomed on her cheeks below downcast eyelashes when her breasts were crushed to his chest for those few seconds. Again, the performance was flawless, or very nearly so. Though she didn't realize it, she gave herself away at the last moment, meeting his eyes in a glancing look as she entered the room. The last thing Dean would ever want to be was psychic, but in that look, he knew her thoughts as if she'd spoken them out loud.

_Yes, pet, but who is the spider and who is the fly?_

Dean turned his attention to Crowley, crossing to him in one long stride, grabbing him by the lapels and swinging him around to crash against the panic room door.

“And just what the fuck are you doing here? I don't remember inviting you to this party.” By the time he was done speaking, they were nose to nose and Dean's teeth were bared. He was really enjoying the part of the plan where he and Crowley expressed their hostility for each other to throw Lasa off the scent. Maybe enjoying it a little too much, but who was counting?

Crowley bared his teeth right back, breaking Dean's hold on his coat and shoving him back a half step. “You didn't really think I'd leave Lasa to your _tender mercies_?” The sneer in his voice on the last two words was so thick it was practically visible in the air between them. He huffed out an incredulous breath. “I can see by your imbecilic expression that you did. Well think again, half-wit. I'm staying right here to make sure you don't try anything dumber than usual.”

A small, tight smile appeared on Dean's face. “In that case, why don't you come in? Make yourself at home.” The words were polite enough, but his eyes were cold and deadly.

“Ha! I think not. Danger is Lasa's thing, not mine. No, I'm fine right here.” Crossing his arms, Crowley leaned back against the iron door with an attitude of relaxed defiance.

“Have it your way, then. Maybe you'll learn a thing or two.”

“From you? The mind boggles, but miracles _have_ been known to happen.”

*********

Lasa

I watched through lowered lashes as Dean turned away from Crowley, discreetly relishing the stretch of thin cotton across broad shoulders when he reached for the bag of salt that sat against the wall. As he filled the gap in the doorway that had allowed me to enter, I felt a pang of something I hadn't felt in so long that it took me a moment to identify the emotion. I wouldn't call it fear; it was more trepidation, almost a feeling of vulnerability, absurd as that might sound. Me, vulnerable? It was beyond laughable, but I couldn't deny the fact that my pulse raced when Dean swiveled to face me. Already, he was so much better at this than I could have hoped. It was exhilarating!

I met his dark gaze with wide doe-eyes, prey mesmerized by the predator, and at the edge of my vision saw his fingers curl inward in a hungry grip. My internal glee at the gesture faded a little when he didn't immediately move to take me in that grip, but the rumble of his voice when he spoke reassured me that my appearance was having the desired effect.

“First thing's first, kitten.” Possessive, greedy lust strained at the edges of his words, hemmed in by an iron control that contained it as securely as the iron of the room contained me. Which is to say, neither was as secure as Dean believed. He went on. “The rules in _this_ house are different. I ain't ever been interested in doin' something the other person doesn't want to do. In fact, I'd call that a hard limit, so we're gonna use a safe word. You get to pick; make it something you won't forget.”

Safe word?! Silly boy, who did he think I was? Best to humor him, though. I pretended to think about it for a few seconds, when it occurred to me that it would be the perfect moment to give Dean a glimpse of the real me, the one who had so thoroughly entranced him in the first place. “Jehovah.”

Momentarily distracted, Dean raised his brows. “Why?”

“Can you think of anything better to kill the mood than to utter the name of that bossy, judgmental Denier-of-Life?” I might have gotten a bit carried away with the honesty, but covered it with a small saucy grin.

To my surprise, Dean guffawed, shaking his head. “Can't argue with you there. Jehovah it is.” Abruptly serious again, he stalked toward me, stopping only inches away. Raising both hands to slide along either side of my jaw, he lifted my face and held it there in a firm grip, looking into my eyes. “Use it and this all ends, then and there. Got it?”

I gave a short nod against the pressure of his hands. “Yes.”

Dean's thumbs slipped down to cross each other at the front of my throat, tightening slightly. “Yes... what?”

“Yes, sir.” My voice trembled in a way that was completely unplanned, shocking me for a moment as I tried to remember the last time I'd responded so spontaneously to _anything_. But it was impossible to focus and the question floated away under the spell of his warm breath on my face and my pulse thudding under his fingers.

“Good girl.” The murmured praise danced over my nerve endings as Dean wrapped an arm around my back, hauling me up against him until I stood on my toes, clutching at his waist. The hand at my throat slid up under my jaw, tight enough that I couldn't move away even if I'd wanted to, before his mouth collided with mine.

For the first time since I'd known him, Dean's hands and mouth were hard, callous, taking his own pleasure without concern for mine. It sent a sudden thrill through me and I melted against him, opening my mouth and everything else to him. As if he'd been waiting for that surrender, Dean groaned into me, gripping tighter, nipping and licking into my mouth more hungrily than before, bending me back over his arm with the ferocity of his advance.

He broke away but didn't straighten, keeping me off balance and clinging to him while he nuzzled at my neck, dropping his hand to my breast and squeezing roughly.

“Damn, seems like I've been thinkin' about this forever, about all the the things I'm gonna do, all the ways I'm gonna make you scream and beg for me.” His teeth closed on the curve above my shoulder and I shuddered in his grasp. He ground his erection against my belly as his lips trailed back up, words curling into my ear in hot, intimate puffs. “But first, kitten, you're gonna do something for me.”

With that, Dean turned loose of me with a little push, so that I fell to sit on the thin mattress, with something less than my usual grace. I watched silently as he reached past me and understanding flared when he grabbed the pillow and dropped it to the floor at his feet.

Without hesitation, I slipped from the bed and knelt there, hands on my thighs and head lowered, waiting for his permission before going any further, much as it strained my patience to wait.

His chuckle floated over me. “Aren't you the eager one?” His tee shirt dropped to the floor, but I resisted all of that tantalizingly bare skin and kept my eyes modestly lowered. When his hands moved to unfasten his jeans, I resolutely kept my gaze at knee level. That task became exponentially more difficult when he pushed the denim down his muscular thighs, freeing his cock. I could just see the shape of it in my peripheral vision, bobbing slightly, inches from my face, tempting me to forget the role I was playing and simply reach for what I wanted.

Resisting the urge, I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, but didn't move otherwise. Again, it was as if Dean were waiting, watching for the signs of my desire, because he spoke at that exact moment.

“You can look, kitten.”

Breath held, I raised my eyes, taking in every detail, every line and curve, masking a faint start of surprise. Though it was as beautiful as I remembered, his cock seemed _bigger_ somehow. I knew that wasn't possible (unless you were familiar with a rare few spells, as I was); I told myself it was simply the way he loomed over where I knelt, evidence of just how good a dom he was. Nevertheless, I felt my face flush and my heart race as I dared to send a darting glance up to meet his eyes before falling again to the work of art before me.

“May I touch you, sir?” The tremor in my voice would have done me proud if I had been putting on any kind of act; the fact that I wasn't acting was disconcerting. The next second, his deep voice pushed that unease completely from my mind.

“Go ahead, do what you want, kitten. I'll tell you when to stop.”

Mouth watering, I ran my hands up the warm skin of his thighs, fingertips pushing shallow furrows over his tense muscles. Leaning forward, I pressed an open mouth kiss to the warm smooth skin at the base of his cock before dragging my tongue, soft and wet, slowly up his length to lick away the glistening drop that had collected at the tip. The salty taste made me moan and I took the head into my mouth, exploring the shape and texture of him, starting a slow sucking rhythm as I slid my hands higher. Just as I was about to begin caressing those bits I didn't have my mouth on, Dean's hands pressed down over my own, holding them in place against his legs.

“ _No_. Keep 'em there.”

The rough command dropped through me, striking sparks of lust as it fell, burning me with the need to enfold him in my wet heat. I sank down on him slowly, savoring the way he filled all my senses, dizzy with the warm smell of his skin and the sound of his harsh breaths as I ran my tongue in intricate patterns down his length.

I felt his fingers steal into my hair, sliding over and behind my ears until he held my head in a firm grasp. A low moan seeped out around the silken weight of his cock on my tongue when Dean began to guide my mouth over his hot skin. It had been years since I'd allowed anyone that amount of control. Even when I subbed for Crowley, I had my ways of avoiding those things I didn't choose to do. And this? Most men had no finesse at this, either too timid or too rough.

Not Dean, though. He pressed forward, slowly but inexorably, until I felt him at the back of my throat, holding there as my eyes watered. I stayed where I was, relaxed and open, despite the thoughts of oxygen that began to flicker through my mind.

“Good girl.”

The praise - and the hunger that was there in his voice, roiling, pushing at the thin bonds of his restraint - sent a pulse of heat through me and I moaned again, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs as he finally, gradually pulled back far enough that I could fill my lungs with air.

And then he began to fuck my throat in earnest.

It was glorious, everything I'd ever wanted it to be (and that so few were able to deliver). Somehow, he knew - knew that I wanted him to push me to my limit, and then just a little further; knew just how long to deny me, my desire for him linked to my desire to breathe, both spiraling higher as each second passed; knew exactly when to give me a moment to gulp in an intoxicating rush of air that sent my head spinning even more.

It was - _he_ was- so sublimely good, just this side of too hard and too deep. The sounds that came out of me, muffled though they were, were the same as if he'd been fucking into my cunt instead of my mouth and for the briefest second, I wondered how Crowley was taking this scene, there at his station outside the door, watching Dean take what I'd so often denied him.

The next second, thoughts of Crowley melted away with the strained sound of Dean's voice.

“Fuck, kitten, your mouth is so hot, takin' my cock so good...”

At that moment, all I could think about was feeling the salty heat of him pulse over my tongue as he surrendered himself to my obedience. Carefully leaving control in his extremely capable hands, I began to work my tongue and throat around him more deliberately as he slid back and forth. The effect was immediate; his grip on my head tightened a fraction and his hips picked up speed, punctuated by low grunting exhales, so quiet I knew even Crowley couldn't hear him. But I could, and through the haze of arousal and building rhythm, that sound was the thing that made me wonder if I would come when he did, kneeling there untouched.

No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than Dean pulled away, turning me loose and stepping back. Caught off-balance, I swayed forward on my knees before recovering and looking up to find him staring at me with an unreadable expression. A thread of alarm wound through me; knowing humans better then they know themselves is my stock in trade and I'm not used to being in the dark.

But I shrugged off my discomfort. I'd committed to this plan, it was a good plan, and I was determined to carry it through, nevermind a momentary ignorance of what he was thinking. After all, the odds of him surprising me were so minuscule as to be effectively out of the question. _Next it'll be the clothes..._

“Take off the dress, kitten.”

“Yes, sir.” Smothering a satisfied smile, I rose gracefully to my feet, lifting my hands to untie the simple knots at my waist and the back of my neck. The thin fabric fell in soft billows at my feet and the cool air of the basement raised goosebumps over my naked body. I stepped out of my sandals and toward where Dean stood with his muscular chest heaving, jeans hanging low on his hips, cock standing hard and proud against his belly.

His gaze was a fiery caress over my curves as he took his time toeing off his boots and shoving the rest of his clothes off to stand brazenly before me. I only had a moment to appreciate the full glory of a naked Dean Winchester before he was on me, pulling me against him, and the feel of skin on skin drove every other thought out of my head.

In the back of my mind, I was aware that he was lowering me to the cot, but it faded into insignificance compared to the feel of his mouth on mine, his hands gripping and squeezing, building up the pressure inside me to unbearable levels. And when he pulled my legs up to rest on his shoulders, his hot breath ghosting over my soaking center, I braced myself for an unrelenting barrage of sensation, the hunger of his hands translated to the power of his mouth.

The gentle, easy touch of his tongue against my clit surprised a low moan out of me. Amazing as it felt, I wanted him to devour me, push me hard and fast, not this lick and taste and sip. Almost of their own accord, my hips lifted to press against his mouth, seeking more pressure, more force.

He denied me, continuing his languid exploration of my pussy, tongue pressing lightly against my entrance, slipping just inside before traveling back up to my clit. It was fantastic and maddening and I couldn't decide if my moans were out of pleasure or frustration. All I knew was that I wanted more.

Daring to take some small amount of initiative, I pressed my thighs together around his head while I bucked up against him, hoping that he would be so caught up in the moment that he would give me what I craved. Instead, Dean's hands trailed from my hips around to my inner thighs, forcing them open to splay wide to either side of his lazy mouth. It might have been enough for me if his grasp had been bruising, his actions rough. But his power was finely gauged and steady, grip just hard enough to bend me to his will and no more. Obedient but undaunted, I didn't fight the pressure of his hands.

Nor did I lose the desire to set a pace more to my liking.

I drove my hands into his thick soft hair, none too careful about keeping my nails off of his scalp, clutching short handfuls. Instead of drawing him closer, the way I desperately wanted, I started simply tightening my grip on his hair in time to the slow and leisurely rhythm of his tongue on me. Before long, slightly harder pulls, slightly faster, and Dean was following right along. Fire began to bloom in my veins as I rocked my hips up, tugging him harder against me as I chased my pleasure.

In one abrupt move, Dean broke away from my hands and sat back on his heels, regarding me with a set jaw and one eyebrow raised, a look that sent a shiver down my spine.

“Just who the fuck do you think's in charge here, kitten? 'Cause it sure as fuck ain't you.”

Not terribly worried, I nevertheless played the part of desperately needy sub to perfection. With pleading eyes and a hungry edge to my voice, I began, “Please, sir, I want-”

“Unless you safeword,” he interrupted, expression unchanged, “it's what _I_ want that matters here.” The cutting sharpness of his voice following so soon after the giving softness of his tongue had my head whirling a little and I didn't answer. “So what's it gonna be, kitten? You gonna tap out? That the kinda sub you are?”

I stared up at him, contemplating the galling choice - complete and utter submission to Dean or use the safeword and admit defeat. Put it that way and there was really no choice at all.

“No, sir.”

“Then get those fuckin' hands over your head and keep your legs open. You're gonna take what I fuckin' give you.”

“Yes, sir.”

I followed his orders, gripping tight to the bed frame above me and spreading my knees wide around him, muscles sparking with arousal and rage at being outplayed. He didn't move, eyes roaming over my body for long moments as I lay open to his gaze. Fighting to keep my temper in check was nearly as difficult as holding back the pleas for him to touch me. Just when I was maddeningly close to saying _something-_ even I didn't know what- Dean leaned forward again and once more I felt his breath drifting over me as he spoke in a low, husky voice.

“Good girl.”

I sucked in a breath, feeling his mouth return to my pussy, and damn it if he wasn't continuing in the exact same way as before, indulging himself in the taste and feel of me without any sense of urgency or momentum. Soon, every part of me trembled, shuddering with the need for more, but I obeyed the rules. Knowing that begging would be of no use, I silently held on, nothing but the power of my will preventing me from trying to achieve an orgasm in spite of his restraint. My pride was on the line now and I _would not_ give in.

I was so focused on maintaining control that at first I didn't notice the subtle change. It seemed that all at once he was picking up the tempo, pressing harder, suckling and nipping, and I was hurtling toward mindless pleasure like a ski jumper headed down the ramp, all racing speed and inevitability before breaking the bonds of gravity to fly.

And fly I did.

Wordless cries ricocheted from the curved walls, echoes of my own passion surrounding me as my body arched and strained toward Dean, greedily seeking more of the pleasure his mouth was providing. It seemed to go on and on, and when he finally lifted his head from between my thighs, I could only stare blinking up at the ceiling, for the moment unable to accomplish any task more complicated than catching my breath.

He was already in motion, though I was hardly aware of it in the dazed aftermath of my shattering orgasm, not until I felt his body skim over mine. When I looked down to see his swift advance over the planes and curves of my body, he seemed to me an oncoming storm, a force of power so overwhelming that it left me exposed and defenseless in a way I hadn't been for thousands of years.

Then he was on me, his mouth on mine, one calloused hand curling under my shoulder up to grasp the base of my neck, the other reaching down between us to guide the blunt head of his cock to rest just against my entrance. In that moment, I shifted, became something else - a chasm, a great open space - waiting, expecting, _needing_ to be filled. There was nothing left of me but that welcoming openness.

When Dean didn't immediately push forward, tears of frustration and need prickled behind my closed eyelids and a whimper rose in my throat twine around his tongue in my mouth. I could hear the horrified protests of my rational mind at the outright display of emotion and, worse by far, the sincerity of that emotion. But that voice was dim and far away at the back of my brain, trivial as it had never been before.

There was nothing I wanted more than to feel Dean inside of me, to merge with him and get lost in that moment so purely physical that it becomes spiritual. Yet I didn't try to work some ploy on him to get my way; it never even occurred to me. Instead, I looked up at him when his mouth left mine, knowing that he could see the shine of leftover tears that made it difficult for me to tell if I imagined the momentary softening of his expression.

“Please, sir...”

This time, he didn't interrupt. This time, he met my eyes with a searching look and, imagined or not, I responded to the trace of kindness I saw there.

“Please, I need your cock, sir, please give it to me...” Burning with a kind of desperate suspense, I flexed my fingers around the thin metal tubing of the bed frame and fell silent, unwilling to make any further attempt to sway him.

He leaned down, so that his low words tickled my ear. “S'alright, kitten, I gotcha.”

I'd never heard him speak with such warmth and tenderness (or any at all, really) and that softness pierced me to my soul even as an unfamiliar sense of ease settled in my bones.

When Dean finally sank his cock into my depths, a surge of heat flooded up my spine to spill in a flush of pleasure over my chest and throat and cheeks until I felt myself fairly glowing with it. My hands dropped to his shoulders, anchoring myself as he began steady, measured thrusts that threatened to set me adrift, lost in an endless sea of sensation. It seemed that his pace never varied, neither slowing enough for me to gather my senses, nor accelerating enough for me to climax. The only thing I could do was hold on, allowing the current of bliss to carry me where it would.

He leaned in to kiss me again, tongue moving in concert with his cock, and I clutched at his neck, frantic with the unrelenting buildup of tension. Breathing heavily, he broke away, pressing his forehead to mine as his hips continued their maddening tempo.

“Fuck, kitten, you feel so good!” His hot breath ghosted over my lips and I whined hungrily. “Such a soft pussy, so hot around my cock, squeezing and...” Dean trailed off, his movements picking up the slightest amount of speed. It was enough to have my nails digging into his skin as my hips raised to meet his every plunging drive into me. “So fucking perfect!”

The sound of his voice, choked with arousal, shattered a barrier inside me and I answered him in kind, the words broken and wild.

“N-need -uh!- more... fuck, pleeease!”

He answered my pleading cries with a deep-throated groan and a quick, hard plunge that was the start of the punishing rhythm we both craved. We moved together, not as one, but as two in total awareness of each other, in a harmony of thought and motion that carried us swiftly to heights of ecstasy, together.

“ _Dean_!”

“ _Lasa_!”

Although the names were mere gasping whispers against each other's lips, they echoed in my head and my heart with every pulsing beat of pleasure as his release and mine intertwined, driving us both almost unbearably higher before slowly ebbing away.

For once, my mind was quiet, empty of plots and plans, and I lay there awash in the freedom to simply _be_. Then I felt Dean move and as his weight lifted, another settled over me. In an instant, all the centuries of darkness, of loneliness and evil, all the pain I'd inflicted trying to bury the pain I felt, every last bit of the torment of my lost life, bloomed like a noxious plant in my chest, leaking poison into my veins and strangling the breath out of me.

With a silent gasp at the sudden pain, I opened my eyes to see Dean reaching for his clothes, studiously avoiding my gaze. Swiping at my wet cheeks, I looked down in horrified disbelief at the tears collected on my fingertips and without warning, all of that pitch-black pain shifted into red-hot rage. Naked and furious, I rose from the bed and stalked toward him.

“What the fuck did you do to me?” My voice rose in tandem with my wrath. “What kind of spell?! UNDO IT!”

He backed up, hands raised, still refusing to look me in the eye. “Hey, all I did was fuck you!”

“That wasn't fucking! I _know_ fucking!” I snorted in enraged contempt. “That was lovemaking! What insanity would possess you to do such a thing?!”

Dean's face hardened. “I only did what we agreed, kitten! You gave me control and I used it the way I wanted. End of story!”

“You're right, this is the end.” I glanced at Crowley, still in the doorway, watching our interaction with a mildly surprised look on his face. “Let's go.”

“You're not going anywhere! Right Crowley?” After a moment of silence, Dean swung around to look at the demon. “Right, Crowley?!”

“Ah yes, about that... “

Impatient and tired of playing games, I interrupted. “Don't bother with explanations, just break the fucking trap!”

Sending Dean a rueful look, Crowley raised one hand. “Sorry, chum,” he said, snapping his fingers smartly.

Nothing happened.

“What the bloody...?” He tried again, with the same result.

Just as he was about to try a third time, Dean started laughing. Crowley and I both turned to him with murder in our eyes. Still chuckling, he didn't say anything, just pointed to the ceiling above Crowley's head where half a Devil's Trap could be seen extending from behind the open door, just enough room to trap the King of Hell.

“Did you really think that I trusted you, Crowley?” Dean crossed his arms, looking amused and pretty damn proud of himself. He put on a really terrible pseudo-British accent, some bizarre mix of Irish, Scottish, and possibly Cockney. “I kin see by yer im-be-cil-ic expression that ye did.”

“I'll kill you!” Crowley's face was shading to a deep red at this point, which only seemed to amuse Dean further.

“Not if I kill you first! Which I will do, right after I exorcise Lasa.” He glanced at me, almost apologetically. “Can't just leave you running around topside, now can I?”

Again, I moved toward Dean, unconsciously dropping into the lethal grace of a hunting cat, and saw him react by edging toward the door. “You _dare_ to think that you have any kind of power over me?!” I caught my breath at the sheer audacity of his offense. “Release me or face the consequences!”

Dean looked pointedly around the room, then met my eyes with a sardonic look. “Knock yourself out.”

Despite the symbols, the salt and the iron, I could still feel my power just below the surface, raging to be set free. I closed my eyes, arms out and palms up, digging deep and straining with everything I had to break through.

I did it! Just barely, hardly more than a whisper of contact, but it was enough. I stretched toward the ceiling and flung my power up and out, fully intending to bring the house down around our heads. There was a deep rumble, and dust began to sift from the ceiling.

Through the grating and shaking of the old house, I heard footsteps thundering down the stairs and smiled to myself. _Even better_. I laughed exultantly and redoubled my efforts, listening to familiar voices shouting in shock and confusion.

“Dean!” Ah, that would be Sam. I almost hated the idea of killing him, but in the end he was only collateral damage. Wrong place, wrong time, Sammy.

“Just what the fuck is goin' on in my basement?!” And Bobby, the old coot; at least he'd had a long run, for a human.

“You guys aren't supposed to be back for two days!” Poor Dean, caught in the midst of his sins.

When I finally flicked open my black demon eyes to focus on Dean, he stepped back in shock and I heard a gasp from Sam. They'd never seen eyes like mine. They couldn't have. I'm one-of-a-kind.

I stared at Dean, red cat pupils narrowed.

“I am Lasanan Emuq! I am power unrivaled!” My voice was rolling thunder, ominous and dark, loud enough to make Dean flinch and move to cover his ears. In the second of stunned silence that followed, my next words were death-quiet and full of promise. “ _You. Will. Pay._ ”

Turning inward again, I coaxed more and more power up through that slender connection and poured it into my working, determined to be done with these hunters once and for all.

It wasn't going to be enough! Unthinkable that I had been bested by this ordinary human, but there was no denying it. I knew before they did, but it wouldn't take them long to figure it out.

But I would still have blood.

Taking up every scrap of power left to me, I sent a whip of flame in Dean's direction. In the moment before I collapsed to the floor, I had the satisfaction of seeing him somersault back into the wall and hit with a solid thunk.

*********

“ _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potes...”_

I woke to the sound of Bobby droning some kind of exorcism and the feel of an iron manacle around my ankle. Sitting up on the cot where I'd been covered with the blanket, I stared at the three hunters standing between me and the door, then raised my voice over the sound of that ridiculous Latin.

“I don't know which is funnier. Is it the fact that you actually think an exorcism will work here?”

“ _... audi nos._ ” Bobby's voice came to a stop and it was quiet as they absorbed the fact that I was unaffected.

“This body is mine, boys. It always has been. There's no exorcising me.”

“That's funny, alright.” Dean didn't look amused, though I personally was enjoying the trickle of blood on his cheek. “Regular laugh riot. What was the other funny thing?”

I gestured down at the blanket covering me, before getting to my feet and letting it drop to the floor. “That you thought I would have need to cover myself from your eyes. I am not ashamed of my body or how I use it and I have nothing to hide from any of you.”

Bobby's muttering just reached my ears. “Apparently not from Dean, but... “

I caught his eye. “Not from _any_ of you.” As I spoke, my face and body shifted, like curling smoke, until I stood before them in a plump dark-haired form they were each intimately familiar with.

“Sara, is that you?”

“Debbie...”

“Holy shit, Rebecca!”

The chorus of confused dismay was music to my ears, but the looks they sent each other as the truth dawned on them were a thousand times better, filling me with glee. This! This was why I kept secrets, so that I could let them out at the best possible moment!

Watching them grapple with the fact that all three had fallen prey to my charms almost made it worth having to play this stupid waiting game. Nevertheless, my temper was growing short. Reverting to my natural form, I paced as far as the chain at my ankle would allow.

“So you've trapped me, good for you! You have a leopard of the mountains locked up in a cage.” I smiled and there was blood in the expression. “What _ever_ will you do now?”

With cautious looks that barely constituted eye contact, the three men made for the door without a word to me or each other. They huddled at the basement stairs to talk in urgent whispers, punctuated by the occasional accusatory finger or angry frown from one or the other of them.

My eyes fell onto Crowley. To anyone else, his face would have been expressionless, but I could see the surprised jealousy and grudging admiration he was trying to hide. I flicked my glance to the hunters and then back to him with a little shrug. Eternity is a long time and boredom will drive you mad, something Crowley was just beginning to understand. With a small nod, he indicated his comprehension and not entirely pleased acceptance.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Sam bound up the stairs, but I continued to ignore the hunters as I lifted my gaze to the Devil's Trap above Crowley's head, then raised a questioning brow at him. He gave a dismayed shrug, his shamefaced expression telling me we had both made the mistake of underestimating Dean Winchester. I turned back to the others as Sam came down the stairs, brandishing an old book as he approached my temporary cell.

“Guys! I know what she is!”

Dean and Bobby gathered around him, carefully avoiding stepping into Crowley's space.

“Well? Spill, kid!”

“She's a goddess.”

“A what now?” Dean shook his head as if his ears were blocked.

“A goddess.” Sam opened the book to a page he had marked. “I thought her name sounded familiar, but I didn't put it together until she mentioned the leopard thing. I've been reading this old Sumerian mythology book, some really interesting stuff in there, and get this...” He found his place and began to read as the others peered over his shoulders to follow along.

“LASANAN EMUQ – The Sumerian goddess of hedonism and sexual pleasure, as well as survival instinct and manipulation. Lasanan Emuq was a leopard-headed goddess (sometimes known as The Leopard of the Mountains) and has a strong association with crows. She was said to be a shapeshifter, able to change forms at will and is sometimes associated with Uttu, the Sumerian spider goddess. There are numerous tales in which she entices mortals for her own amusement, manipulating them into situations where they willingly forsake their own principles, occasionally to their benefit. Worship of Lasanan Emuq reached its height during the Akkadian Empire, circa 2200 B.C.”

All four of them stared at me, their expressions varying mixes of astonishment, awe, and calculation. For the first time, I felt naked in front of them.

Dean was the first to speak.

“Hedonism and manipulation?” He examined me over the yellowed pages of the book. “Seems pretty fuckin' accurate.”

“Words written by _men_!” I spat my reply at him, nearly blinded by the reminder of who I had been and how the truth of me had been twisted through the years.

“So you're a goddess?” True to form, Bobby was immediately skeptical.

“I _was_ a Goddess!” Memories of a past long buried rose up in front of me, carrying a full measure of the pain and sorrow I had been avoiding for millenia, but also with echoes of the pride and joy that had been entombed with them. “I _protected_ women and brought pleasure to the world! My rituals were never about demanding blood or treasure from My followers. Orgies were My worship, I was celebrated in solitary rooms and loving marriage beds, every orgasm dedicated to Me. And it was _good_.

“Even after my culture disintegrated and became absorbed by another, and another, time and again there was a place for me in the new framework.” I had tried to convince my divine sisters and brothers that they could join me, that they could learn to adapt and live on. They hadn't been able to make the leap in understanding and had instead dwindled away into nothing. “The numbers were fewer, but the spirit was the same and I was happy.

“Until the Jehovan religions showed up.” I made no attempt to disguise my contemptuous sneer. “Suddenly, the essence of me, the core of what I was, became something low and tainted and evil and I was NEVER that!” I swallowed a sob of grief before it could break free. “My followers were terrorized, threatened with damnation for nothing more than celebrating the pleasure gifted to them by their Goddess, tortured and killed if they refused the cruel religion forced upon them!” I took a moment to rein in my useless, bitter anger, breathing deep so that my voice was strong and steady as I went on. “So when Lucifer came calling, there was no reason to refuse his offer of a place in the new world order. Now here I stand, a servant of evil who was once a bringer of light and joy.”

“Not so much the servant these days, my dear.” Crowley's gritty voice drew all eyes to him. “Rather more accurate to say the one who has all of Hell wrapped around her little finger.”

I smiled warmly at him in gratitude for the reminder. “True, but-”

“Oh, boo-hoo! We all got a sob story!” Scorn dripped from Bobby's words and I swung to face him, stopping just short of the chain's length, if only to deny them the satisfaction of seeing me jerk to a halt at the end of my tether. In spite of the bonds that held me, something alarming must have shown in my face, because Dean moved forward, one hand on Bobby's chest to push him back as he stepped between us.

“Hey, no need to get mean here, but Lasa, you gotta know that whatever happened in your past doesn't give you the right to mess with people, ruin their lives.”

“I'm sorry, but have you met me? Were you paying attention at all? I have _every_ right!” Glancing at the clock radio sitting on the beat up desk, I didn't bother to hide the smug smile that broke out. “Do you want to know why? It's because I make sure no one is in a position to stop me. Might makes right, after all.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart, but looks to me like we're in a position to stop you.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I stared Dean down, smile undimmed. “Looks can be deceiving, can't they?”

Anxiety flashed in his eyes. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means that I always have a backup plan for the backup plan. In this case, it means that I made arrangements with the troops back home. If I'm not in contact with Hell at a set time, specifically 9 minutes from now, a horde of demons and other hell beasts descends on this area.” Gaze locked on his, I took one more step forward and saw Dean flinch a little at the sound of the chain rattling. “Believe me when I tell you that they will kill every living thing in a five mile radius of this place. Every human. Every animal. Every fucking plant and insect will die unless you release me before then.”

“Us.” I glanced at Crowley, confused by his interruption. “Release _us_ , right darling?”

“Of course, dear heart!” With a lilting laugh, I turned back to Dean. “Your move, pet.”

From the look on his face, mirrored by the alarmed expressions on Sam and Bobby, they believed my threat. Clearing his throat, Sam pushed forward a little.

“Are we supposed to believe that you'll just call off the attack if we let you go, no hard feelings? Why should we trust you?”

I batted my eyelashes at him with a coy smile. “What choice do you have, Sammy?”

His face hardened and he stepped closer. “Assuming you'll renege on the deal, we should just kill you both now and take our chances. At least you'll be dead with us.”

“Now, now! Let's not be hasty, Moose.” Crowley glared at me before turning his attention back to Sam. “You're right not to trust anything she says, but I give you my word, no one will die if you let us go.” Frowning at Bobby's derisive snort, Crowley continued. “Have you any idea the amount of paperwork and red tape involved in a kill zone of that size?!” He shrugged carelessly. “I mean, sure, I'll do it if I have to just to get out of this dank little hovel, but I'd much rather go back to business as usual.” Looking back and forth among the hunters, he smiled charmingly. “So what do you say? Call it quits and everybody lives to see another day?”

After a series of grimly silent looks between the brothers and their mentor, Dean frowned tiredly. “Fine! Doesn't seem like we have a choice.” He nodded Sam toward Crowley's trap. “Cut him loose.”

As Sam reached up to scrape away a section of the Devil's Trap over Crowley's head, Dean stepped forward to do the same at the entrance to the panic room, clearing the salt from the doorway at the same time. I waited as patiently as possible while he knelt to remove the chain from my ankle, trying not to show my eagerness to put this debacle behind me. Before I could move toward the door, Dean stood and blocked my path. I rolled my eyes and waited in glaring silence.

He leaned in, speaking quietly. “Whaddya say we never see each other again?”

Brushing past him, I crossed to where Crowley stood waiting before I turned to reply.

“Oh, I don't know, Dean. I have the strangest feeling this isn't the last time our paths will cross.”

I gave him a little fingertip wave, Crowley snapped his fingers, and we were gone.

 

*********

**Author's Note:**

> So that's if for Lasa (for now). I have some ideas for a possible continuation and/or backstory, but that probably won't happen for some time. Other things to write, you know how it is. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the series and Lasa as much as I did!


End file.
